


Take a Moment and Ask Yourself

by nerdy-flower (baconnegg)



Series: Scenes from a Sunny Winter Town [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: A lot of discussing feelings and related things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bros bonding over nail art, Dating, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Transphobia, Long queer conversations, M/M, Mild Angst, Multi, Questioning, Someone save these dorks from themselves, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Usopp is a dork, sanji is a dork, so much domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconnegg/pseuds/nerdy-flower
Summary: Alternative title: That Feeling When Your Boyfriend is Super Confident in His Identity and That's Cool But You Are Maybe Not So Much Sanji and Usopp have a date night, and Sanji's thought train gets derailed, but maybe that's not a bad thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Continuation from the first part of the series. This has turned into a three-parter with a focus on Sanji (eventually I want to write more parts with the others, but I won't get ahead of myself), the last part will be much longer (as if this isn't long already, hah) piece and span a longer set of time, this is a joining point between the two parts. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> TW for some internalized transphobia, transmisogyny, and homophobia, further notes down at the bottom to avoid spoilers.

The wash of warm air, heavily scented with the smell of a full and bustling kitchen is a relief to Sanji’s wilting spirits as he and Usopp finally step into the restaurant. If hell existed, it probably involved being stuck on a crowded bus for all eternity. They immediately get shown to a booth near the back by a lovely young lady in a crisp black uniform who takes their drink orders and bustles off, leaving them to strip off their freezing outerwear and sigh in relief. 

“You know what’s underappreciated? Sitting down. Sitting down is a woefully underappreciated.” Usopp pulls his white woolen scarf loose, hair askew under his bright yellow beanie and his nose swollen and red from the cold. “Are you okay to eat? You were looking pretty pale back there.” 

“Yeah, I just need a sec. Goddamn bus driver and his fucking lead foot.” Sanji starts thumbing through one of the black leather-bound menus the waitress had left for them. The place was called Wano Sushi, and Usopp had discovered it when wandering around the city with Luffy and Ace a few summers ago. Sanji doesn’t eat out often, and he’s curious to see if the food lives up to Usopp’s hype. Plus, trying new dishes was as important as sharpening his knives, so it was two birds with one stone. 

“That’s good, holding your bangs back over the toilet isn’t what I’d call a romantic evening.” Usopp chuckles and starts flipping through his own menu, wetting his cracked lips in thought. “I just thought of something. This is our first typical date, isn’t it?” 

“What? We’ve had tons of dates.” Sanji’s brow furrows at Usopp over the menu, which seems ripe with possibilities and makes it hard for him to settle on a meal. “What counts as ‘typical?’” 

“Oh you know, meals, movies, going to the carnival and winning an absurdly large stuffed animal for the object of your affections. Not that I mind at all!” Usopp rapidly waves his hand as he closes his menu. He’s a creature of comforts and probably picked something along his usual tastes. He was only adventurous when it came to Sanji’s cooking. “In fact, nine times out of ten, I prefer staying in. I just realized this is the first time we’ve actually gone out for a meal by ourselves, that’s all.” 

“Because I can usually cook something much better at home-!” Sanji cuts himself off when the waitress suddenly reappears to take their orders. He gifts her with a warm smile and politely orders some beef sukiyaki, Usopp picks the tonkatsu, and they split a plate of shrimp tempura. The waitress sets down their drinks and whisks off towards the kitchen, appearing thankfully unoffended. 

“Yeah, true. Still, it’s nice to get out once in a while. Maybe we can afford to do it again next year.” Usopp grins, the corners of his mouth twisted in sarcasm, his cheeks and nose no longer ruddy from the humid warmth inside. He raises his glass, dark beer sloshing against the rim. “To being broke as shit?” 

“To being broke as shit,” Sanji laughs darkly and joins his boyfriend in their toast. He keeps hold of the glass after drinking, his thumb rubbing circles into the condensation on the glass. “When I get out of school and get a goddamn decent job again, I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Pft, you don’t need to do that.” Usopp smiles over his glass and reaches into his messenger bag, retrieving a thick black pen. “Just keep cooking for me and I’ll never stray from your loving embrace.” 

Sanji snorts, and watches as Usopp immediately begins sketching on the off-white paper placemat. “Yes, clearly the only thing that could come between us is your compulsive doodling.” 

“I had an idea on the bus! Can’t let it go to waste. Besides, I can totally listen to you and draw at the same time.” Usopp rests his chin on his other hand and bats those criminally long eyelashes of his. “How was your day, _darling_?” 

“You’re a dick. This is why I don’t take you out.” Sanji retorts, his voice only half-sour. The Friday dinner crowd starts filling the booths around them as they talk. Chatting idly about assignments, annoying classmates, and Usopp’s unending video game war with Luffy. Sanji isn’t much for gaming, but Usopp’s frustration over Luffy’s continued ability to snatch victory from the pixelated jaws of defeat is a never-ending source of entertainment. 

The waitress reappears, steaming food in hand. They thank her kindly and dig in immediately, starving students that they are. Sanji’s delighted to discover the food lives up to expectations. Rich, perfectly cooked, and savoury. Warmth rapidly fills his stomach as he and Usopp bump knuckles reaching for more shrimp. If he could get the right ingredients, maybe he could recreate this at home. Make a lot of it at once on a night when everyone was home, that would be perfect. 

“And,” Usopp continues after a big swallow of rice, waving his chopsticks like an orchestra conductor. “If I pull some strings and take one extra credit next semester, I can bump my industrial design minor up to a second major. Then I’ll be twice as employable! I bet you I’ll be rolling in job offers!” 

“Ah-huh,” Sanji chews thoughtfully on a chunk of beef. “And how much will you be crying next semester?” 

“Probably every day. But hey, it’s only four months and then I am free from the shackles of school forever!” 

“Until your student loans come back to haunt you.” 

“Hmph, you’re a real downer, you know that?” Usopp sighs, sinking down in his seat and scowling up at Sanji, who chuckles in reply. “You’ve got that internship next semester, right? At least we’ll be suffering together.” 

“Ugh, don’t fucking remind me. My dipshit advisor has already lost the paperwork for it twice.” Sanji huffs, gulping a mouthful of his Pinot Noir. His eyes catch on the design Usopp’s scratching out, a winding pattern of flowers and chevrons, though the butcher paper isn’t lending itself to his partner’s usual smooth lines. “Is that for an assignment?” 

“Nope, working on another tattoo design.” Usopp sips his beer and adds shading to a slender leaf. “I wanna get another one done at least by graduation. To commemorate everything, you know?” 

Sanji hums affirmatively in response, his eyes drifting over to the stylized skull and crossbones peeping out from under Usopp’s ever-present wristband. He’d been acquiring tattoos since he’d arrived in the Straw Hat House, and Sanji had become intimately familiar with all of them over the past nine months. “Where are you getting it?” 

“On my arm, left I think. I’m working up to full sleeves.” Usopp’s lips curve in that almost-childishly pleased way that Sanji’s so fond of. “Then, I’ll get to work on covering my whole body. I’ll be a walking art gallery, a living testament to the craft!” 

Sanji smiles back. “And how much will admission be to this gallery?” 

“For some exhibits, free and rotating depending on weather. The rest are special invitation only.” Usopp looks up, his grin taking on a more sensual note. 

“I see.” Sanji’s memory helpfully calls up Usopp’s current tattoos. A thick, abstract band of ocean waves looping around his chest, a few small pieces scattered over his arms, and the looser, novice patterns on his thighs, put there by Usopp’s own hand and a not-entirely-legal tattooing gun he keeps in the back of his closet. “You should get one on your stomach. That would look cool.” He conceals the lust in his voice, imagining tracing his lips along a beautiful design lining Usopp’s firm abs. 

“You think so?” Usopp’s eyes drift away, probably thinking up another design, though his tone indicates he’s caught onto Sanji’s line of thought. “Hm, I do want something there eventually. I’m waiting until after I get my inside bits out though, I wanna incorporate the scar so it looks extra badass.” 

“Oh, do you have a date for that already?” Sanji pops another shrimp into his mouth, leaving the last two for Usopp. 

“Oh god no, not yet.” Usopp shakes his head, stray curls bouncing around his ears. “I told my doc that I’ll finish school, get a job where I can take some sick leave, and then book it. I’d rather it be sooner than later, but I don’t want to end up living on Kaya’s charity again.” Fondness flickers in Usopp’s eyes at the mention of her name. Sanji’s always been a little envious of anyone who got to have childhood friends, especially the kind that last past grade school and into adulthood. And Kaya was such a sweetheart, too. 

“Yeah, it sounds like a pretty intense procedure.” Sanji flicks his eyes towards the front window of the restaurant. He can’t see past the sign to tell if it’s snowing or not. 

“Eh, if I can survive top surgery, I can survive anything.” Usopp holds up one arm and flexes it, his smile wide with showmanship. “I’m one tough customer now. I’ll be back to full power before the stitches even come out!” 

Sanji laughs, then pauses, taking another sip of his wine. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but when did you have your top surgery? In high school?” The scars had always felt well healed beneath Sanji’s fingertips, but it was hardly his area of expertise. 

“Ah, no, actually.” Usopp pauses mid-chew, his lips pulling thin. An error message flashes in Sanji’s mind, perhaps this wasn’t the best date night topic. “It was- I had it done the, uh, summer before third year started.” 

“Oh. So-“ 

“Before I came out to everybody, yeah.” Usopp eyes are stuck to his rice as he rakes it into a pile with his chopsticks. “I really wanted to tell you, especially, you know, in case something went wrong. But I just couldn’t- I couldn’t fabricate any reason as to why I’d be having surgery there, other than the actual reason. And it was right after the whole argument thing so I just wanted to- go away for a little while.” 

Sanji remembers that summer. The longer gaps between Usopp’s messages in the group chat. How he’d belatedly gotten a part-time job at some museum instead of his usual summer-long day camp job. His reduced artistic output. Sanji had assumed he was, maybe, depressed, withdrawing out of shame and dented self-esteem. Everyone’s forgiveness had been wholehearted, but Merry’s death combined with the sting of the escalated argument with Luffy had stuck with Usopp. It probably made recovering from surgery a hell of a lot worse. 

“Even if we were still pissed at you by then- and we weren’t, -you still could have told us.” Sanji reaches across the table to cover Usopp’s paint-stained hand with his own. “I’m sorry we made you feel like you couldn’t.” 

Usopp looks up, that rarer, softer smile curving his lips and crinkling his eyes. The one he seems to save for Sanji alone. “You didn’t make me feel anything, none of you did. It was my decision not to tell you.” 

“And it is. Your decision, I mean.” Sanji loosely links their fingers, tracing Usopp’s calluses. “But I’m glad you did tell us. Now when you go for your next surgery, we can worry about your dumb ass like we’re supposed to. Luffy would hijack a bus to take us there if push came to shove.” 

“God, yeah, you’re probably right.” Usopp laughs, a little flush warming his cheeks. He returns to his food, his touch lingering on Sanji’s skin as he draws away. “Yeah, I guess it all worked out for the best. My top surgery is what ended up motivating me to open up to everybody, so it ended up being doubly beneficial.” 

“Oh? How so?” Sanji picks at the last of his sukiyaki, grateful he hadn’t inadvertently upset Usopp on what probably was going to be their only dinner date for a while. God, work-study jobs paid such shit wages, but the food was worth it. 

“It’s a funny story- well, funny in hindsight. I wasn’t laughing a whole lot at the time.” Usopp twirls his pen in his hand as he talks, his own food mostly gone. “Picture me, move-in weekend of third year. It’s forty degrees in the shade and I am sweating more than I have probably ever sweat in my entire life. I get all my stuff up to my room and start changing so I can smell slightly less bad for at least thirty minutes. Zoro knocks on the door, and because my t-shirt was caught on my necklace and hopelessly tangled around my head, he mistook my ‘coming’ for ‘come in.’” 

“Dumbass mosshead,” Sanji spits, though it’s hard to stay annoyed while listening to Usopp spin a yarn. 

“Perhaps ignorance, perhaps fate. Either way,” Usopp gestures grandly, his tone solemn and dramatic. “I had just managed to pop my head halfway through the neckhole when he swung the door open. Immediately, his eyes landed on my still quite prominent scars, and I tried to concoct some sort of explanation. I think I got halfway through what I thought was a very plausible skin condition in the time it took him to close the door.” 

“What did he say?” Sanji takes another drink. Zoro was many things, but he wasn’t hateful. But then again, he wasn’t especially tactful either. 

“Not much, at first. I was flailing in full panic mode. He just walked over and grabbed my shoulder, told me to relax.” Usopp’s eyes are unfocused, lost in the reflective black surface of the table, his voice suddenly subdued. “I finally remembered out how shirts worked, and we sat down and talked for quite a bit. It’s hard to recall all the details of it now, but…he reassured me that I didn’t have to hide anything, unless I really wanted to.” 

“Hard to believe that idiot can actually be mature sometimes.” Sanji murmurs, feeling a surge of warmth in his chest, cut into by a sharp slice of envy. It wasn’t fair that Zoro got to give the inspiring speech to Usopp, but then, what help would Sanji have been? He takes Usopp’s hand again, stroking his fingers along the cold-cracked skin of his knuckles. “But I’m glad whatever he said helped.” 

“Yeah, I mean- looking back, it seems silly. But in senior year, I couldn’t wait to go to college. I was finally gonna get away from my tiny town and make new friends, and they’d only know what I wanted them to know. I could finally just be Usopp.” He squeezes Sanji’s hand back, his skin so warm against Sanji’s cold smoker’s fingers. “But it actually really sucked. It was bad enough worrying about if my binder was showing and if my hips stuck out too much at school, worrying about it at home too was exhausting.” 

“I bet.” Sanji adds quietly, all too familiar with the constant low-lying fear. The worry that one misstep will paint a scarlet letter on your forehead for everyone to see. But Usopp’s words are more important than his thoughts, and he refocuses. 

“I think recovering from surgery brought it all to a head, you know?” Usopp’s fingers fidget in Sanji’s loose grip, his voice cracking the slightest bit. Sanji’s fingers stroke softly against his wrist, instinctually soothing. “On the one hand, I was on top of the world. This huge important thing had finally happened, but- I couldn’t share any of it with you guys. Not the excitement, not the pain, none of it. I couldn’t be honest because I was scared. And after Zoro talked to me, I realized I really didn’t want to be scared anymore. So, I marched around announcing it like I’d discovered Atlantis or something, and Zoro was right, nobody really gave a damn.” 

Sanji chuckles slightly at that, recalling Usopp’s announcement to him. He’d been cooking scallops at the time and sincerely hadn’t thought much of it. He’d had questions as to why Usopp hadn’t said anything before, but given that he was deep in his own closet at the time, he opted not to pry. He feels pride and heartache welling up inside him as he listens, completely enthralled by Usopp’s side of things. 

“I regret- I regret a lot of things about those first couple years. Not coming out to you guys for so long is one of them.” A sad, heavy note enters Usopp’s voice. He picks up his drink and swirls the lukewarm remnants of beer around the bottom. “Not because it was that important for you to know, but because I didn’t trust my friends.” Usopp looks up, dark eyes all wistful, the kind of look that renders Sanji willing to do anything for him, even pry the stars out of the sky to make him smile again. “So, I’m sorry. For not trusting you and everyone else. I’m still working on not being scared, but I think- I know I’m much better than before.” 

“You don’t have a damn thing to apologize for. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” Sanji tightens his grip on Usopp’s hand, a simmering edge of fierceness to his voice. “I just- I’m sorry I wasn’t there, and I hope I keep being worthy of your trust.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Things have turned out much better than I ever expected.” Usopp smiles, his gaze so full of warmth and love that Sanji worries he might be blushing like a stupid kid. He feels so, so lucky just for the chance to hold this man’s hand and share his time, share a meal with him in a warm room on a cold day. A long-winded romantic sentiment is writing itself on his tongue until their passionate gaze is broken by the loud chime of Usopp’s phone. 

“Oh balls, I thought I put it on silent.” Usopp digs through the pile of clothing beside him, looking for the offending device. 

“You better read it, it might be Luffy. If he’s set the microwave on fire again, I’m jamming my foot so far up his ass his grandkids will feel it.” 

“Nope, it’s Nami.” Usopp swipes through the texts, quickly polishing off the last few pieces of his meal. “She’s reminding me of our movie night. Aw dammit, I’m on popcorn duty again. I only have two bags left.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know you two did movie nights.” Sanji finishes one last swallow of his drink, adjusting to the mood shift. He had assumed they would be spending the evening together, but he hadn’t specified, and it wasn’t fair to interrupt their plans last minute because he wanted more lovey-dovey time. They were both probably really looking forward to it. 

“Yeah, it’s not an organized thing, just when we have time. Vivi comes too, and Robin sometimes, but she only wants to watch horror movies.” Usopp catches Sanji’s smirk and glares back, affecting a haughty tone. “Not that I’m scared of them, they’re just not my cup of evening entertainment tea.” 

“Right,” Sanji grins back, trying not to sound disappointed. “Sounds like fun, though.” 

“You should come,” Usopp replies, his voice a bright and cheery change from the heavy tone of earlier. “Nami and Vivi won’t mind. We just hang out, watch a movie, Nami usually has new hair and nail stuff to try. It’s really fun. Just don’t let her talk you into trying those plastic nails. They hurt like hell. You can use the other stuff, though.” 

“Hell no! That’s- it doesn’t sound like my thing.” The words come out stiff and sharp, stuttering out from Sanji’s chest. Usopp’s smile dissipates into a frown, but the waitress comes by with their receipts and mints, offering a momentary distraction. “Do you, uh, wanna grab some Beaver Tails before we head home?” 

“Sure,” Usopp still sounds perturbed, but pulls his coat on all the same. They pay (Sanji tips generously, because server’s wages are his personal definition of humiliation and lovely hardworking young ladies always deserve extra), and make the short walk through the busy market to the little stand. It’s barely past five, but the sun’s dipping low behind the skyline of historic buildings as they walk slowly towards the canal. 

“Ah, hey, listen.” The cinnamon burns on Sanji’s tongue as he chews. He hates himself for flinching like that, effectively pissing all over their moment of love and acceptance. “I didn’t mean for that to have come out the way it did. It just- Fuck, I dunno why I said it like that. I’m sorry.” 

“I bet I can guess why.” Usopp teases, levity in his tone but still possessing his usual acerbic spark. “Your first reaction was ‘No, I can’t come, because that’s for girls and I’m a man,’ which immediately raised the question of why I was going, and then you suddenly felt like an asshole. Right?” 

“…Yeah.” Sanji mumbles, tearing another large chunk off of his pastry to sate his oral fixation. He wants a smoke, but juggling open flames and highly flammable paper in wind-numbed hands doesn’t sound like the best idea. Especially downtown, where no one seems to understand the meaning of personal fucking space. 

“And you’re probably still wondering why I, as a fellow man who does manly things, am willingly participating in something that sounds like a slumber party.” 

Sanji says nothing. They cross the street and start following the trail along the canal, chunks of ice floating past them. 

“It’s funny, come to think of it.” Usopp says around a mouthful of cinnamon and maple, evidently picking up some manners from the mossball. “A couple years ago, I reacted the exact same way when Nami first invited me for a spa night. I was so focused on being seen as masculine, I scorned all things feminine. I even kept my Sailor Moon manga hidden under the bed like someone was gonna find it and blackmail me or something. I had to make sure everyone knew Usopp was a Man who had absolutely no womanly qualities whatsoever. But guess what happened?” 

“What?” They keep walking shoulder to shoulder down the canal, the sun setting behind them and casting their shadows long in front of them on the scraped-clean path. The wind cracks Sanji’s lips and makes his nose run. He turns his collar up to try and shield himself from it. 

“Exact same shit that happened when I stayed in the closet, I was exhausted and angry all the time.” Usopp rips some of the paper wrapping away to nibble on more of his pastry, getting cinnamon and sugar everywhere. “Because both times, I was pouring all this time, money, effort, and pain into being the person I really wanted to be, just so I could limit myself to all these dumbass rules of how I could act and what I could say and on and on and on. I get why actors make a lot of money now, pretending to be someone you’re not is a lot of goddamn work.” 

Sanji nods quietly, watching Usopp’s impassioned gestures with such complete interest that he stubs his toe on the edge of a bench and bites back a curse, not wanting to spoil the moment twice in one day. 

“So it took me a while, I’m not gonna act like it didn’t, but I finally just decided to do whatever the hell I wanted!” Usopp shakes his fist, looking ready to charge into battle. “Stuff is just stuff, it doesn’t have the power to change who I am. I know who I am. And I’m not spending the rest of my life stabbing a needle into my ass twice a month just so I can run screaming at the thought of wearing pink.” 

Sanji snorts a laugh, feeling just a little lighter and burning with pride. Usopp has changed so much from their freshman year. No wonder he wants a tattoo to commemorate their college years. He’s still himself, but so much stronger and more confident. Sanji almost misses the protective feeling he used to get around him. It still pops up now and again, but it’s mostly replaced by a feeling of companionship, like they’re soldiers of the same rank. 

“And you know something?” Usopp swallows another hunk of pastry and blows out sigh, creating a cloud of steam over the edge of his double-wound scarf. “Even after all that, I still doubt myself sometimes. I think ‘Maybe this means you’re lying to yourself, maybe that’s why you like all this stuff, because everyone was right and you’re not really a man after all.’” 

“That’s bullshit!” Sanji snaps, reflexive as a sneeze. 

Usopp turns and smiles at him, toothy and wry. “It sure is. But it’s way easier to convince somebody else of that than yourself, isn’t it?” 

Sanji looks away, a burning tightness in his throat. He balls up the empty wrapping in one hand and pitches it into a trash can. 

“So I guess what I’m trying to say, Sanji,” Usopp runs a hand over his hair, playing with the loose elastic holding it back. “Is that I get it. It’s a lot more than just one day of telling everyone that you’re here, you’re queer, and they should get the hell over it, and you haven’t had as much time to unpack it as I have. But it’s okay.” Usopp reaches over and takes Sanji’s hand from where it’s loosely tucked into his coat pocket. “You don’t have to like or do anything you don’t want to, but you know who you are, and nothing can change that. So don’t let it change you.” 

The burn in Sanji’s throat has upgraded to gravel, and he swallows hard before speaking, looking anywhere but at his boyfriend. “It’s really fucking unfair that you’re more grown up than I am when I’m older.” 

“Why thank you for finally noticing my superior maturity!” Usopp grins wide and tosses his head, laughing and stumbling when Sanji lightly shoves him. They walk quietly for a few minutes, hand in hand, and Usopp looks over at him. “Uh oh, still frowning. What’s up? I’m not mad, you know.” 

“I know.” Sanji says, sounding way too petulant for his own good. “I just- Fuck, I didn’t mean for this to turn into a goddamn therapy session. This was supposed to be our night out.” 

“I don’t care.” Usopp shrugs, fitting his hand more closely into Sanji’s grip. “We’re together all the time, and it’s important to talk about this stuff. Plus, we won’t be interrupted out here. What’s on your mind?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Sanji stops to light a cigarette, fighting against the wind. The nicotine itch is scraping at his throat, and the balm of acrid smoke in his lungs soothes him slightly. “I dunno, talking about this got me thinking about living with Ivankov and company. I mean, they were loud as hell and the kitchen was a damn mess half the time, so I was cranky from the start. But I was- I was super uncomfortable around them because of my own fucking insecurities and I acted like a prick.” 

Usopp chews on the remnants of his pastry. “How so?” 

“Well they’d like, tease me and try to get me to put on makeup or dresses. A lot of them would flirt with me or make comments just to take the piss and get a reaction, you know.” Sanji takes a long, sharp drag on his cigarette, painfully recalling that long summer internship across the river. “I’d get flustered and tell them to fuck off, and they’d just laugh it off. If I got more smart-mouthed than that, they’d tell me off properly. I didn’t- even when I hated myself I never hated other people. I didn’t care, it’s just that they were ragging on me all the goddamn time- I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, fuck. Never mind. Sorry.” 

“Sanji, it’s not like I don’t know how you used to act, I was there. I was the same way, I just came out a lot younger.” Usopp grabs his free hand again, looser this time. “I’m not gonna start hating you all of the sudden. You know better now, and if you put your foot in your mouth again, you know I don’t have a problem telling you so.” 

“That I know for sure.” Sanji smiles thinly around his cigarette. Usopp, even when Sanji first moved in, was never afraid to push back. They’d never fought to the scale that Usopp had with Luffy, but arguments were well-trodden territory for them. “I still feel like an asshole though.” 

Usopp laughs softly, squeezing Sanji’s hand with his mittened one. “Well, if it makes you feel better, Iva probably had you pegged from the start. When they’re not performing, they’re a part-time therapist at the centre I go to.” 

“Wait, seriously?” Sanji’s cigarette nearly slides off his lip. “Ivankov’s a fucking psychologist?” 

“I don’t know their exact title, but they have ‘Dr.’ in front of their name and they were originally gonna be my counsellor when I moved here. Conflict of interest and all that.” 

“Will wonders never fucking- dammit!” A sharp gust of wind sneaking between the tall buildings snuffs out his cigarette and he stops to relight it. “But that’s not what I meant- I mean, yeah, I should probably take them a dessert or something one of these days, but- the way I acted in the restaurant was shitty and I shouldn’t be doing that anymore. I still flinch and stay stupid shit when I know better.” 

“You and everybody else in the world.” Usopp shrugs, looking at him incredulously. “You’ve never said anything that bad. You’re a good guy, and you’ve come a really long way, especially since we got together. It’s nothing to worry about.” 

“You still deserve better than that- fuck! Fucking goddamn shitty wind!” Sanji flicks his lighter furiously, the wind blowing cold and hard enough that they both huddle against a nearby lamppost to try and shield themselves. Winter could get bent, for all Sanji cared. Shittiest season and it lasted half the goddamn year. 

The wind dies down after a few seconds, and Usopp looks up at him. His voice has a firm edge, but there’s an underlying softness. “Sanji, listen, we’ve talked about the D word. I’m anxious about a lot of stuff too, but you can’t let your guilt tell you what _my_ feelings are, okay? I’m not stupid enough to fall for someone who’s bad for me.” 

“I know, I know.” Sanji sighs, rolling his cigarette between his teeth. The burn in his chest and throat has nothing to do with his addiction. “I just- I think you’re fucking amazing, okay? All the stuff you said back there, the shit you’ve pulled yourself through alone when we didn’t- and you just keep going with that stupid grin on your face. I want- I want to be worthy of you.” Sanji’s voice catches and he starts desperately flicking his lighter again, for a distraction as much as for the light. 

“You are.” Usopp says with such quiet, awed appreciation that it makes Sanji pause. “I think you’re amazing, too. Before I told anyone about anything, I looked up to you. I always have.” He holds up his mittened hands to shield the struggling flame of the lighter. “I love you, Sanji, I’m sorry I don’t tell you enough.” 

The flame finally takes, Sanji quickly sucking in to reignite the tobacco and paper. His eyes are fixed on Usopp’s face, smiling so sweetly up at him with those beautiful eyes shining, full of love and mirth while his face is flushed with shyness and cold. His heart nearly stalls in his chest, partly because it’s a look Usopp sends his way so frequently. No one’s ever said anything like that to Sanji before, not in a romantic context. And no one’s ever looked at him like he’s the reason the sun rises every morning. 

Usopp’s hands are halfway back to his pockets when Sanji snatches the cigarette away and leans in to press their lips together, pulling him close with his other hand. He has to bend his knees a little, and Usopp’s nose feels cold against his cheek, but the warmth of the connection sends sparks up his spine. The outside world melts away and his only thoughts are of Usopp and wanting to be even closer to him. 

Usopp draws back with a little sigh that makes Sanji lean in again, until the wind whips back up and they blush, remembering where they are. They’ve never kissed in public before, mostly out of fear and an aversion to being the sort of touchy-feely couple everyone hates. Sanji’s glad his coat reaches his knees, because Usopp’s kisses are the kind people write poetry about. 

Sanji pops the cigarette back in his mouth, urging the embers back to life, and he takes Usopp’s hand. “We should head home, yeah? It’s getting dark.” 

“Yeah,” Usopp murmurs, cheeks still aflame. He holds Sanji’s hand tight in his own as they head for the bus stop. 

*** 

Usopp’s room was one of Sanji’s favourite places to be, in part because it was a snapshot of its resident. The walls were so covered in posters and artwork that the paint could no longer be seen. Figures, audio equipment, and art supplies lined a desk containing a cutting edge laptop that Usopp had saved for months to buy, only to have the other members of the house kick in the last chunk of money as a collective birthday gift. His closet on the far wall was propped open, revealing a mishmash of different hoodies (none safe from paint or oil stains), two nicer outfits for job interviews and presentations, and a somewhat sloppily organized toolbox sitting at the bottom. 

Sanji also preferred it because it lent itself to sex much better than Sanji’s room, which he shared with Chopper. 

“I should probably get dressed.” Usopp mumbles against Sanji’s neck, making no effort to get up whatsoever. His bed wasn’t quite made for two people, so they always had to lie in each other’s arms. Sanji had no complaints at all, even if his toes did hang over the edge of the mattress. 

“Mm, five more minutes.” Sanji continues lazily kissing Usopp’s forehead and rubbing his broad back. God, he felt more muscular with every passing week. What the hell did he and Zoro do at the gym, anyway? Lift boulders? 

“You said that twenty minutes ago.” Usopp giggles, stroking the back of his hand over his chest and eliciting a shiver when he brushes over Sanji’s sensitive nipple. 

Sanji merely hums in response, not moving an inch. Their relationship had a stumbling start to begin with, and Sanji had never allowed himself to so much as daydream about being with a man. The prospect of being a disappointing lover nearly drained the romance right out of him, but Usopp rose to the challenge. He knew what he wanted and said so. He taught Sanji how to laugh at the awkward moments, how a mistake didn’t mean the mood was ruined, and how creativity belonged in the bedroom as much as the kitchen or the studio. Sex no longer felt like a solo performance that Sanji had to work to succeed at. Now, given the opportunity, he would happily spend unhurried hours with his lips on Usopp’s cock and his hands appreciating every inch of skin within reach. 

Was nine months too soon to be sure you’d found the right one? But then, truthfully, he’s been falling for Usopp for years. None of his previous relationships, enjoyable as they had been, matched this contentment, the quiet that Usopp brings to his mind with a touch or a laugh or a long late-night talk about hopes and dreams and the merits of different types of Halloween candy. 

“Okay, I’m getting up.” Usopp mumbles, sounding drowsy as he pushes himself up. His warmth remains on Sanji’s bare skin, goosebumps rising in his absence. “I’m moving, I’m in motion, I’m wondering where my underwear went?” 

“Foot of the bed.” Sanji strokes his hand over Usopp’s hip as he sits up and removes his phone from the cradle on his alarm clock. 

“Ah, thank you, kind sir.” Usopp switches off the eclectic yet enjoyable playlist he always puts on during their intimate moments. The Straw Hat House was large and well-insulated, but a noise cushion for the courtesy of the others and their own dignity was still much-appreciated. 

“I got a text back from Nami.” Usopp reaches down to retrieve his underwear. “She said you’re free to join us, so long as you don’t expect lingerie-clad pillow fights.” 

“As if I would!” Sanji snaps, goosing Usopp when he laughs. “But is it really okay if I join? This is something you three do together. I don’t want to be an intrusive dick.” 

“Of course it’s okay.” Usopp smacks Sanji’s hand away from his ass before pulling his briefs up his legs. “We just get together out of similar tastes. It’s like a little- ah, what’s it called, self-care thing. My counsellor has a longer word for it. Anyway, you don’t mind what we watch, do you? We’re marathoning some pretty girly shows right now.” 

“Nah, you know me, I’ll watch anything.” Sanji swallows, his lungs itching for the burn of smoke. The noise buzzes to life in his head again, never leaving him for long. 

“Cool, oh, and the dress code is pajamas only.” Sanji glances over, eyes having lost focus for a moment, and sees Usopp standing at his dresser. Facing away from the bed, grey briefs snug over the firm curves of his ass, and the rest of dark skin lit warmly by the small bedside lamp. His hair’s hanging loose, elastic lost somewhere and curls all tangled from their play. Humming quietly to himself as he pulls an old band t-shirt and garishly-patterned flannel pants out of the top drawer. 

Sanji doesn’t register getting up until he’s pressed against Usopp’s back, grazing his lips over the curve of his neck and stroking his hands down Usopp’s sides. 

“Hey now,” Usopp chides, his voice rougher than before. “Watch those hands, mister. If you make me come again, I won’t be going anywhere.” 

Sanji chuckles and gently turns Usopp around. The press of his kiss-bitten lips against Sanji’s own is enough to chase away the noise again, the scrape of Usopp’s chinscruff against his own a now-welcoming familiarity. Usopp’s hands, those endlessly talented hands, find their way to his scalp and shoulder. Sanji pulls his partner close, still hungry for as much touch as possible. He’s too goddamned lucky, that’s the only explanation. He’s done nothing to deserve this peace. 

“Mm- okay, okay.” Usopp pulls away after Sanji’s moved his attention to his collarbone. He jabs a finger against Sanji’s chest. “You- are trying to distract me. And I should have you know how very rude it is to keep two lovely ladies waiting for their beloved popping corn.” 

Sanji smiles, palming Usopp’s defined chest and abs. “Perhaps, but you weren’t complaining.” 

“Movie night, now.” Usopp returns the smirk, though his eyes are still dark. He gently shoves Sanji away and pulls on the raggedy t-shirt. “Round two, later.” 

He walks to retrieve his wristband from the floor and two bags of popcorn from the snack food library on his upper desk shelf. He looks back, pulling on the pajama bottoms and watching Sanji collect his own clothes from where they’re folded on the chair, and affects a haughty voice. “Unless you really don’t want to spend an evening cuddled up to two of your favourite women and more importantly, your unbearably attractive and charming boyfriend?” 

Sanji rolls his eyes. “When you put it that way, I think I’ll get started on my term paper instead.” 

“You jerk.” Usopp tuts, sticking his tongue out briefly. He steals a quick, sweet kiss and saunters towards the door. “I’ll meet you in there.” 

Sanji hastily pulls his clothes back on, not bothering to preen or smooth them down, and slips out onto the small balcony adjacent to Usopp’s room for a smoke. His long-sleeved shirt does little to shield him from the cold, but the surrounding walls block the draft long enough for him to burn through a cigarette. 

He returns to his bedroom, finding Chopper gone either to the library or for a long soak in the bath. Sanji typically only bothers with boxers and a t-shirt for bed, but thankfully owns a pair of bright blue pajama bottoms courtesy of a Christmas gift exchange a couple years before. Communal living had lowered everyone’s boundaries significantly, but he’s not about to strut around half-naked in front of the girls. 

After lightly tapping on the door at the far end of the upper hall, he’s welcomed by a chorus of voices, and enters to find Usopp perched on the double bed in the corner, with Nami and Vivi lounging comfortably on the pulled-out trundle bed. 

“Hey, look who made it just in time!” Nami grins and pats the mattress behind her. “We were about to start, I thought you might not be coming.” 

“I’d never miss out on spending time with you two lovely ladies.” Sanji folds himself onto the plush, duvet-covered bed and tucks his sock feet underneath him. “And Usopp, I guess.” 

Sanji laughs when Usopp punches him in the arm. “Just for that, you are banned from the snacks. Further infractions will be marked on your permanent record.” 

“And just how marked up is that record already?” 

“Knock off the flirting, you two. You’ve had all day.” Nami scolds, raising an adorable giggle from Vivi. She hits play on the remote, and the small TV in front of them starts playing a show Sanji vaguely recognizes from when they only had one TV and deciding what to watch was a nightly war. It’s colourful and lighthearted, with a plot simple enough that he can let his mind fade in and out and not miss anything. 

He settles back into the long blue body pillow leaning against the wall and feels a little tension slip from his shoulders. There was something so uniquely pleasant about a girl’s room. The softness of the fabrics, the way everything is arranged with an eye for comfort and personality, and the decorative nature of it all is so inviting. Such a pleasant departure from the utilitarian blankness of his own room. 

“Don’t mess it up this time.” Nami’s voice draws Sanji’s eyes from the screen. She’s scooted back between Usopp’s legs and handed him a hairbrush. There was a pile of different hair and beauty implements down on Nami and Vivi’s half of the bed. Sanji is at a complete loss as to what most of them are, and some look rather painful. 

“I looked it up, I know how to do it this time!” Usopp huffs, pulling Nami’s long soft locks back and running the paddle brush through them. “I didn’t tangle it that badly.” 

“They say redheads are more sensitive to pain.” Vivi adds, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she digs through the pile of supplies. 

“And brunettes are more sensitive to whiney customers-ow!” Sanji and Vivi laugh at Nami’s swift pinch to the man’s calf. Nami grins in pride and they both soon return to watching the show while his hands weave a series of complicated braids into her hair. 

Vivi turns and smiles up at Sanji, her bright blue hijab hanging in long, pretty layers over her shoulder. “Can I do your nails, Sanji? I promise not to paint them unless you want me to.” 

Sanji laughs a touch too stiffly, buying himself a moment. He catches Usopp glancing over in his peripheral vision. “Oh no, darling. You don’t want to use any of your nice things on my hands. They’re all stained with nicotine.” 

“That’s easy to fix,” Vivi holds up a small pack of wipes. “Plus, it’ll be good for your nails. Washing your hands all the time is so hard on them.” 

Sanji hums, looking down at his hands. His nails are craggy and chipped from his hard work in the kitchen. A little pampering isn’t such a bad idea, and he could never really no to dear Vivi. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind.” 

Sanji wipes his hands down, scrubbing around the nails, and Vivi happily gets to work. The show’s ending theme plays until Nami manages to hit the skip button with her toe. Whatever Usopp’s doing to her hair seems to be coming together nicely, long braids winding back from her crown to join each other. 

Sanji lets his mind drift to the background noise and the steady _scritch-scritch-scritch_ of the emery board against his nails. It’s…nice. The four of them sitting in comfortable silence, gently caring for each other. No wonder all the girls he went to school with liked “girl’s nights” so much, it was kind of fun. Maybe he could do Vivi’s nails in turn? Not paint them, he’d just make a mess, but he wanted to contribute in some way. 

“Okay, I know this school is supposed to be ridiculous and over the top. But we had a hard time getting a gaming club approved at my school, what teacher would sign off on this?” Usopp complains, pinching Nami’s hair in tight fingers. “Like, the private school across from mine used to write up students for holding hands. Do you have more bobby pins?” 

“Yep, one sec.” Nami stretches out her leg, pink pajama shorts riding high as she plucks the package off the floor with her toes and brings it back. “But yeah, my school actually cancelled Valentine’s Day events for causing too much drama. And you weren’t allowed to take dates to a dance until grade nine.” 

“Oh really? For a while my school had a rule that you had to bring a date to prom. They changed it before I started high school, though.” Vivi blows the dust off Sanji’s filed nails and admires her work. “You sit much more still for this than Usopp does.” 

Sanji smiles while Vivi uncaps a liquid-filled pen and starts dotting oil along his cuticles. “That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Hey! I’m very ticklish by nature. It’s a medical condition that’s persisted in my family for five generations.” Usopp, with Nami’s braid complete, proves Sanji’s point by unconsciously bouncing his leg while she paints clear polish on his toe nails. 

Vivi and Sanji laugh as Nami berates Usopp for getting clearcoat on the sheets. She turns back to Sanji, settling sideways on the bed and tugging her nightgown sleeves away from her wrists. “I could paint your toes if you want, just for fun. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing them.” 

Sanji makes himself chuckle. “That’s quite alright, my dear. Just this is fine for me.” 

“Alright, purple would look really nice on you, though.” Vivi chuckles and she returns to rubbing the oil into his nails. Sanji looks back at the TV, away from her. Holds himself casually so she doesn’t look up and see the fear in his eye and somehow realize that he’s looked at his nails and wondered what they’d look like brightly painted. Stared at his body and wondered how it would fill flowing, curve-hugging outfits. Gazed back into his own eyes and tried to picture them lined with colour, only to realize he could only ever be a repulsive moving target, or stick to being the man he was supposed to be. The latter always won out. 

He’s at least expanded his definition of manhood to include falling deeply, stupidly in love with another man. A sweet, ridiculous man who takes in all his love and affection and gives it back with an easy smile. A man who, the closer he gets, has the biggest potential to catch Sanji when he trips, reveals too much, fucks up everything good in his life over a stupid thought he shouldn’t waste time having- 

Usopp’s hand brushes his, and he looks over. There’s that damned cute smile, the angelic way his hair frames his face when it’s down, the open warmth from his relaxed posture. There’s a question in those handsome eyes, he wants to know how Sanji’s doing, if he’s enjoying himself. He always wants to know that. 

The girls are laughing at a slapstick moment in the show, unaware of them. Sanji smiles and takes Usopp’s hand. He feels the familiar flutter in his chest when Usopp’s questioning smile shifts to loving, pleasure, desire. Now, those were questions Sanji wanted to answer over and over again. He squeezes Usopp’s rough hand in his own, and lets his stupid thoughts be forgotten for another moment of blissful tenderness. 

Sanji was still ashamed of many things. But he would never again be ashamed of loving Usopp.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoyed part 2 of this three-part story I don't have an exact title for yet. Just wanted to thank you for reading and add some quick notes down here. 
> 
> Just a disclaimer that I'm writing this from the perspective of a queer cis/questioning person. Writing for underrepresented communities is tricky, because choosing to represent one experience means leaving out other experiences. Usopp's identity, transition goals, and labels are (my headcanons of) his, and not meant to represent the entire trans community, the same goes for Sanji. I've written shades of my own experiences into both of their stories in this AU (Sanji's self-loathing and anxiety, Usopp's hard-won confidence in his identity, etc.) and I hope that all comes through. That said, if I've messed up, please kindly let me know. I want to do better in the future. 
> 
> I also feel like it's worth noting that Sanji asks about the medical side of Usopp's transition because Usopp's already established that's an okay thing for them to talk about, and Sanji's vested interest is "I love you and want to know when you're going under general anesthetic" as opposed to "I get a say in what you do with your body" because that second one is a big hell no. I hope that comes through as well. Don't ask about people's bodies and what they do with them unless you're providing them with healthcare, romantically involved with them, or they've told you it's an okay thing to do. Be a cool person ^^ 
> 
> I'm still worried I made Usopp too preachy at points, but I've had virtually the same conversation with Sanji with many a member of my queer circle (being a little older than a lot of people I know means unofficial queer mentoring duty, which I don't mind at all). In the third part of this, identity and queerness will play a big part, but won't be the only focus. It's going to be a long piece, but the other Straw Hats will finally get more speaking lines, yahoo! I'm still ironing out all the plot points and ideas, but the Straw Hats in this AU are a diverse bunch and I'm excited to write them, even though the focus will still be on our dearly beloved SanUso dorks (Especially Sanji, because that kid needs a hug right now). 
> 
> Shoutout to transpiece on tumblr and the many, many awesome SanUso artists and writers who inspire me to write this series. So much quality, so good. 
> 
> Title taken from Steven Universe's "Here Comes a Thought," because it's on my playlist for this series and song lyrics are the only way I can come up with titles in less than half an hour. 
> 
> Canadian readers might notice a couple hints in this part. This AU is set in a fictionalized version of Ottawa, a beautiful city I've visited a few times and have a lot of nostalgia over. BeaverTails, the canal, the downtown market, the freezing winter weather, and the overcrowded buses during the holiday shopping season are all real. Wano Sushi, the Straw Hat House, and their thus-far-unnamed college, are 100% fictional.  
> Last P.S. BeaverTails are delicious and contain 0% beaver, if you have the chance and like pastry, try one!


End file.
